


Misplaced

by Kim_Kardashian



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 09:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14133720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kim_Kardashian/pseuds/Kim_Kardashian
Summary: Beneath the vestige of celebrity and fame, they had only slightly expensive wine and a night to themselves. A rarity, but Yuuri will take it.





	Misplaced

**Author's Note:**

> this was written a long time ago, and now I'm here.

He bent down, his khaki pants bunching up behind his knees. They were still warm. Toasty from the iron. Yuuri kicked them off, unbuckling his belt and throwing on some shorts, a loose white-t-shirt. 

His hair was ruffled up and pointing in all directions, glasses stuffed in a plastic bag with his leather shoes. The movie premiere after-party would be at Mila’s pent house, but it was midnight and simply, his will to live reached its peak when he was fourteen. Fourteen years later, he could say he was all set. His acting career sparked and glittered along with the cameras, face stamped on countless billboards and magazines.

He ran behind the banquet hall, taking a detour around backstage. The security guard tipped his head and Yuuri smiled, not surprised when a white Jeep Wrangler waited near the trailer. Viktor waved, tuxedo-less, a cigarette perched between his lips. Yuuri swung open the door, midnight declared on his watch. They cut through the private parking lot, the silence deafening and pure. He had half a mind to down the leftover champagne in his bag, a big bottle of it, maybe the red wine, but it was midnight.

Midnight and starless, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and tap his palm on the dash. It’s been so long since any of  _this_ , any Viktor-ful space that is. He felt stared at, and looked over, Viktor’s eyes hazed with calculation.

“Stop. You’re making me nervous.”

Viktor grinned with all teeth. “Me make  _you_  nervous? That’s a first.”

Even his voice startled Yuuri out of his senses. It brought back a catalogue of memories, most of which kept him sane even under the most spiteful tabloids. Time breezed and twisted about, made months seem like seconds, but with Viktor it all fell into an utter eternity, stretching but cathartic.

They met at a gala, Yuuri promoting Phichit’s documentary and directorial debut, Viktor and his costars at the premiere of the film  _Agape_. Too many drinks in, but otherwise supervised by cameras and network interviewers or panels, they conversed and promised to work on future projects together. It happened a month later, costarring in a thriller, Yuuri a supporting role but an award-winning one. That was five haircuts ago.

Viktor liked night cruises, long and aimless. He forgot about that. “I missed you. You’re always on my mind.” It was a silent whisper, they forked on the road, hitting the highway. His intuition proved him right. They were going to the beach. Which one was yet to be debated.

“Really?” Yuuri couldn’t help but clench his fist. The rapid-fire fury made him want to cry. Yell but also claim Viktor like a dog. “You and Chris kissing says otherwise.”

The Wendy’s on the right was still open, miraculously. “That was for the paparazzi.”

“Was it?”

“No…yes?”

“You’re ridiculous.” They parked on the lot, the darkness theirs and telling. Yuuri didn’t know why he bothered dating people publicly, posing with different women for a silent flash, holding her hand to make it seem genuine.

“You always break up with me. Stop that.” Viktor reached over, his familiar cologne and stubble in Yuuri’s heart. They kissed, breaking the distance they had built for so long, it was so familiar and just as core-hitting as always. He let Viktor palm him, the sounds never leaving his throat, and he greedily touched like he’s never touched before.

It’s a tireless feeling, maybe he was trapped inside himself, but Viktor always left him in a perfume of cluelessness, like a teetering toddler walking for the first time. Staring at each other from across the red carpet and liking each other’s tweets was like receiving a crumb from the most splendid cake.

Yuuri rarely indulged, but when he did, he was ready to orgasm in a car, on a Wendy’s parking lot, Viktor kissing his neck and expressing how much he missed their time together by never letting go of his pinky, circling his wrist with an adoringly lazy smile. One that was only for Yuuri, never a magazine cover.

It was an ideal reality.


End file.
